


His last vow

by Karieauthoress (ksrandomme), ksrandomme



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Johnlock Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-09
Updated: 2014-07-09
Packaged: 2018-02-08 04:30:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1926684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ksrandomme/pseuds/Karieauthoress, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ksrandomme/pseuds/ksrandomme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happened with Sherlock and John before Christmas?</p>
            </blockquote>





	His last vow

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Bumpkin_is for her eyes and her advice. Any and all mistakes beyond are mine.

He didn’t want to take her back. He’d said as much to Sherlock and got that look from the other man again. That look that said ‘Please don’t be ridiculous, John.’ But he wasn’t being ridiculous, the woman had *lied* to him! She wasn’t what he had married, dated, or even met in the first place!

Rather she was an assassin, an operative. Ultimately an unknown face attached to some unknown history that he would never know. Or that he was afraid to know really. After the first night back from Hospital with Sherlock, again, John had handed Sherlock the memory stick and told him to read it for him. He didn’t want to read it, didn’t want to be caught off guard. Sherlock could read it, assimilate the data and tell John what he wanted to know. What he *needed* to know. Sherlock had nodded before slipping it into his laptop and waving John away.

In the end Sherlock told him nothing that was on the stick, choosing instead to remind John of all the times she had told him that she loved him, how they were married, how she was carrying John’s child. And those were the things John didn’t want to hear.

“Stop it, Sherlock, just stop! That woman is *not* my wife!” John was so agitated that he couldn’t sit still and he jumped up from his chair, the chair that Sherlock had brought back out of storage the moment he had suspected that this was how John would react. And why was Sherlock still trying to convince John to keep this woman if he had already prepared for John’s return to their flat?

Sherlock sat in his chair, hardly moving so as not to pop his stiches again. John had already threatened to tie him to the bed if he tried to move too much. It had garnered a smoldering glance his direction yet Sherlock *was* acting more careful than he usually did. Now he sat and watched John pace back and forth with that knowing gaze he often used on John when he was sizing him up for something.

John paid him no mind, continuing his rant to the rafters. “Why do I do this? Always, I look for danger and I *get* it! I want to be a doctor; I end up in a war. I want to find a place to call home; I end up with a High-Functioning Sociopath as a flat-mate. By the way, there is no such thing anymore, it’s actually an Antisocial Personality Disorder, and you have complete control over it, which makes you a bloody brilliant detective but a cock-up of a friend.”

Sherlock’s eye’s widened at this, but he said nothing. John went on, “And then, just as I’m getting to understand you, you jump from a rooftop, kill yourself and disappear, leaving me behind. And at first I was *so* angry with you. So angry that you had made this choice to die rather than trust me to help you. Then I was hurt that you had left me and I was in so much pain that it was easy for her to latch on to me, wasn’t it?”

Sherlock made as if to say something but instead held his tongue. They had gone over this the night Sherlock and Mary had told John about the massive lie and cover-up that had been perpetrated. No need to go over it all again. Besides, John didn’t think he would want to talk about it anyway. He’d had enough of it all, had enough of Mary and her evil past. All he wanted was to forget it had all happened.

But he couldn’t, not with being married to her and getting her pregnant. John sighed and went to stare out the window at the swirling leaves that fell to the ground. He heard Sherlock moving behind him but didn’t acknowledge it. Not until he felt Sherlock’s hand on his shoulder. “You should be sitting down.” He chided.

Sherlock chuckled lightly. “I will in a minute, Doctor.”

John turned to check on his friend and found the other man awfully close to him, a hand still on his shoulder and slightly leaning on him for support. “Sherlock what—“

Whatever he was about to say was cut off by Sherlock’s lips on his. Soft, tender and warm, pressing against his own in such a chaste and loving manner. John gasped, the sound echoing in the silent room, and reached out his hands to steady Sherlock as he moved into the kiss. His eyes slipped shut and he simply let himself feel this before it had a chance to be taken away from him. He felt Sherlock’s right hand cup his cheek while his left hand clung to his shoulder.

Sherlock slipped his tongue out to press against the seam of John’s lips, asking for acceptance and entrance to John’s mouth. John gasped again, sucking in a sharp breath that simply allowed Sherlock to cant his head to the right just enough to allow them to fit snugly together, kissing softly, saying nothing aloud, yet saying everything with lips and tongue. John’s hands drifted seemingly of their own accord, gently caressing Sherlock’s arms, down his sides to his hips and waist, just carefully holding him.

The kiss went on for only a minute or so, although John felt it was going on for hours. When Sherlock pulled back a bit John opened his eyes to look him up and down. Sherlock began to stand a bit straighter but suddenly grimaced with silent pain and John immediately reached under the man’s armpits and walked him carefully over to the couch, setting him down on it and helping him to lay back and relax. Sherlock’s lips held a ghost of a smile as John fussed over him for a moment.

When John felt he had done all he could to make Sherlock comfortable again, he sat on the floor by Sherlock’s head and gazed up at him. “Sherlock, how do I do this?”

Sherlock blinked owlishly at John and opened his mouth to say something, but John overrode him. “I mean this thing with Mary and you. And god, I hate to say this and totally incur your absolute torturing of me by way of laughing your head off, but I think I’m falling in love with you!”

Sherlock’s eyes slipped shut. His breath came out stuttered and for a moment John thought he was having trouble breathing, but then he noticed the wetness seeping from Sherlock’s lashes. “Sherlock, what’s wrong?”

Sherlock opened his eyes and stared John full in the face. “You’re falling in love with me.”

He said it simply and plainly. John thought about it for a moment before replying, “I guess so. What do you think of it?”

Sherlock smiled faintly, “I think I quite like it. Too bad it can’t go on.”

John huffed as he pulled his feet under him and prepared to stand. “Bloody hell, tell me why not?”

“John, honestly, do we have to go through this? You are not gay.” Sherlock sat up carefully, slowly, and made as if to stand. John was there to hoist him up and wrapped an arm around his waist to help take some of his weight while walking him back towards his bedroom. All the way there, John muttered to himself.

“Yes, well, I have been saying that for quite some time, haven’t I? But if I’m not gay then what do you call what just happened in there by the window?”

“Desperation?” Sherlock scoffed before he turned and flopped on the bed. John moved the covers aside to let Sherlock actually climb into the bed, andthen began to tuck him in. He sat on the edge of the bed and looked at the floor as he tried to come to terms with it all.

“Sherlock, I’m not gay. Never said I was entirely straight, there have been the odd curious excursion here or there.” John glanced at Sherlock to gauge his reaction to that. Sherlock said nothing and John figured it was better to explain. “I date because of social conventions but my time in the war taught me some interesting things. I just never found any man worth going that direction before I met you.”

“So, you’re saying that it’s not all men that you find attractive, just me?” Sherlock replied. John nodded and Sherlock grinned again. “Well then, I’d say I was happy for that and that I wanted to continue with this train of thought, but for one thing. Mary loves you.”

John grimaced at the reminder but Sherlock’s hand grabbed John’s and squeezed to get his attention. “John, Mary does love you. She practically begged me not to tell you about her, but I know how you detest liars so I had to find a way for her to tell you herself. And you have to admit, you still love her just a little bit.”

John dropped his head in his hands. “Maybe, but not nearly as much as I love you.” He looked up at Sherlock for a moment, “I grieved for you!”

Sherlock smiled and reached out a hand to brush across John’s cheek. “I know, and I am still sorry about that. But that is old news, and we are talking about Mary now.”

John shook his head. “No, we are talking about all of this. My heart, Sherlock, belongs to you. It always has, ever since that first day, that first case. How can I give any of my love to Mary when I still love you? How can I live with someone I don’t love? And why *should* I love someone I don’t know when I have *you*?”

“And what happens when you *don’t* have me, John? What if I truly died?” Sherlock snarled. John sat back a bit, his heart in his throat, and thought about what Sherlock was saying. Sherlock’s eyes softened and his hand went back to John’s cheek. “John, I know you love me. And I have strong feelings for you as well, I would do anything to protect you, you know this. I don’t know if it is love or just a general desire to keep you safe and living so much longer after all the death you have been close to for so long. But I don’t want you to be alone if something was to happen and I leave you again.”

John thought about this for a moment. “That’s why you want me to stay with Mary. So I’m safe?”

Sherlock’s smile ghosted up again. “And so that you are loved.”

John finally got it, somehow he got it. He just didn’t want to have to admit it and thus admit that he needed to be loved by someone. But he *did* need to be loved by someone, and here he was lucky enough to be loved by two people at once. One of whom would give his life for him, the other who would carry his child for him.

With a sigh, John stood up and went to take the memory stick from the dresser in the corner where Sherlock had been keeping it. Sherlock watched him with apparent interest and so John explained it to him. “I’ll have to take her back.”

Sherlock nodded. Then he held out his arms and John took the offer immediately, sliding into the bed with Sherlock and gently wrapping his arms around the other man’s waist. Sherlock brought his arms down and hugged him close. John’s head lay on Sherlock’s chest at just the right height that John could feel Sherlock’s breath in his short hair. Sherlock leaned just a bit and kissed John on the head. “I won’t let you have to deal with this alone. Come with me to my parent’s place for Christmas. We will bring Mary and let her relax there and you two can talk it all out.”

John nodded and sighed. It was the last they would speak of it until after Christmas.

o-O-o

John and Mary watched the jet touch down on the tarmac and taxi its way back to the cars that they stood next to. Mary held John’s hand and was smiling winningly every time John glanced her way. Just as the door opened and the stairway came down, Mary reached over and squeezed his arm. “I want to keep your name, but I’m taking the baby some place safe. I know you love Sherlock, you as much as told me so when you went back to live with him.”

“Mary.” John turned to her, worry evident in his eyes. “What are you saying?”

Mary dropped her smile and looked seriously at him. “I’m saying that in order to protect you, and Sherlock, I need to be away from the both of you. With Moriarty back and threatening London again, Sherlock is going to need you now more than ever.”

John trembled as the implications of what Mary was telling him began to settle in and Mary reached out and hugged him. He wrapped his arms around his wife and held her, gently rocking back and forth. “You know I do love you, after a strange fashion?” he asked.

She leaned in and held him close, whispering, “I know, John. You have a heart big enough to love more than one person; me, Sherlock, and our baby. We are all in your heart. You love me, though you may no longer be *in* love with me. And I can deal with that as long as you *love* me. I know you love Sherlock. Hell, I know that you are *in* love with Sherlock and that doesn’t hurt me in the least. I also know you are totally and completely devoted to our child, I have no fear that you will be there for the both of us.”

He sighed and nodded before pulling back for just a moment to look her in the eyes. She smiled, leaned up to kiss him on the lips, but it was a chaste kiss between friends, nothing more. His face fell slightly as she pulled back again and she sighed. “All right, John. Let me try and put it into words that you can grasp. Until four minutes ago, you and I thought that Sherlock was gone for good. And if you weren’t aware of it, this mission was to be his last. Mycroft didn’t expect him to come back alive. But now he is coming back and that means that I don’t have to try and fill the void he has left in you. I don’t have to try to take up the space he’s left behind. Because he is here again, and he can fill that space so much better than I could even try.”

“Mary, that doesn’t include anything other than the job, the *work*.” John protested. Mary lifted a finger to stop his words.

“John, that includes *everything*.”

John blinked. Mary smiled again. He blinked a few more times as the plane had finally come to a stop behind them and the door was opening up to a set of stairs and John knew that in a moment Sherlock would be coming back down those stairs and Mary was telling him that this was good, this was right. He shut out all the protests, arguing with himself no longer. “What will you do?” he asked her.

“Mycroft will place us somewhere safe. We will have a simple enough excuse. Perhaps I have ill health and need a change of atmosphere while I care for our child. Perhaps I was concerned for our child and wanted Mycroft to put us somewhere safe. That one is true, you know.” She grinned as she glanced over his shoulder. “Now, go over there and welcome our boy back home.”

John turned slightly to look over his own shoulder to see Sherlock standing on the tarmac, close to his brother, but looking at John with clear cold blue eyes. Giving Mary a final squeeze, John released her and turned to stride across the asphalt to stand before Sherlock, his head canted slightly to the side, eyebrows rising on his forehead. “What’s this then just couldn’t stay away from this place?”

Sherlock tried to look bored as he said, “Well what can I say; I missed my blogger too much.”

John smiled with him, and then he reached up and grabbed Sherlock’s scarf, drawing him down by the cloth until their faces were so close they could breathe from each other. Then he whispered, “I missed you too.” And then he kissed Sherlock firmly, lips and teeth and tongue. Pulling back he looked Sherlock in the eye. “Now let’s go find that psychopath, shall we?”

Sherlock stood with eyes glazed and mouth open just a bit. Then he suddenly refocused and smiled as he slipped his arm into the crook of John’s and they strode off together.


End file.
